Last night I got the old paint set out to try and create some new images to help promote my book. It made for an enjoyable evening. By the time I was finished, it occured to me the final product wasn’t anything spectacular, but I wasn’t upset by that, because I realized something: the main reason why I find painting with watercolors enjoyable is because I’m not very good at it. I’m much better at sketching and cartooning. Painting though brings me a joy that the other arts can’t match, largely because it’s all experimentation for me. I never know how it will look by the time I’m done. What I have in my head at the start never comes close to resembling what I’m left with in the end. With a piece of writing, I know I can touch it up and finesse it and write an excessive amounts of drafts, but with paintings, I’m frequently given the sensation that if I add just one more brushstroke I might just ruin what I have. In fact, I have completely ruined several of my own painting attempts by trying to fastidiously correct them. If I were a better painter, the process would be lousy. As a lousy painter, the process is a joy.
Currently, The Madness of Art: Short Stories can only be found on my createspace estore.
By Friday it should be available for purchase on Amazon.
It’s still available as an ebook at a lower price.